comicadventuresfandomcom-20200215-history
2012-11-14 - Prime Anti-Mutant: Color and Flare
Fantomex is holding a plastic canister, a long tube. It is like one you hold rolled up posters in. He just returned home after being away who knows where. He does have issues reporting to where he is going, and when he does remember it's vague such as 'Paris'. It is late, perhaps about eleven at night or so. He starts to approach the staff rec room open doorway, which the stairs are past. Hank is in the Staff room hanging upside down. He's got a book in his hands that he's engrossed into reading. He looks up at Fantomex. "Evening. Have a good evening out?" Fantomex walks past, pauses, then walks backwards. He turns his head to stare a moment. "Well, guess we have beams for a reason, oui?" He then smirks beneath his white mask and soon wanders seemingly aimlessly into the staff rec room. "And what are you doing?" Beast looks down at his book. "I'm reading. I was suppose to be meeting a woman but some staffer wasn't here for his Night duty." He says with a shrug, "So I guess the inquiry for my part can be reciprocated." "Oh...was it me? If it was my turn, non...I never offer to stay." Fantomex then mmmms quietly, before moving over to flop down. "Researching, for a dangerous, challenging, but profitable theft that will turn a quick profit. So that cuts out weapons, bio-weapons, corporate espionage....so....was thinking something big. Mafia perhaps, some illegal artwork?" Beast sighs, "What do you have on Cyclops and Xavier, that they allow you to teach students, non?" He watches the mutant thief for a moment. "So Fantomex, I've been working on research. I don't believe that detector was malfunctioning." The thief hrms, "What does Gambit have on them Hank? And please, call me Jean-Phillipe. As for what I have on Xavier, he believes I care. Perhaps I do." He waves one white gloved hand elegantly, and dismissively. "As for defective or not...why would you say that?" Beast shrugs, "He's not a teacher. I believe." He sighs, "I believe you may be some type of cybernetic individual, Jean-Phillipe. We all have secrets. I know you... appreciate this and I will respect this. But I wished to tell you, you are a cyborg or possibly infected by the Sentinel programming." Fantomex hrms, and raises a gloved hand to rub his masked jaw line. "I do not have any students currently taking languages from me, and I teach martial arts. Wolverine is a nasty figure himself, and yet he also teaches matial arts." He chuckles then. "But you caught something Dr. McCoy. The Professor keeps me around because he knows I know things, he just isn't sure what things yet." He hrms slightly, before he finally says, "You are correct." But he doesn't say how Hank is correct. Instead, he throws a curve ball, "I'm a Super Soldier, one of many." He tilts his head slightly to one side. Beast considers for a moment. "Wolverine is Wolverine." He does a flip as he drops to the ground. He moves to put a book mark in his book. He eyes Fantomex snorting as he seems to be smelling the truth or the lies off of Fantomex, "You're Captain America?" He says with a laugh. "So. You're a cyborg, mutant, super soldier, X-Men, thief. I thought I wore too many hats. So... You sound like Wolverine." Fantomex has no scent, literally. How...strange, come to think of it, Hank never could catch Fantomex's scent. How can there be no scent? "Wolverine? Non...not really." Perhaps more like X-23, but not exactly that either. "Wolverine had terrible experiments performed on him, and it went south. That's all I know about it really," his particular experiment anyway. "Before that, he was the boogeyman. But this was all before my time, there are only whispers now." Beast blinks at Fantomex. "Your a liar, Jean Phillipe. I don't mean right this moment now. But like to create stories and speaking in half truths. So I would say boogeyman would fit." He considers for a moment. "So. Are you a liability?" A quiet moment then, and Fantomex seems to seriously consider your words. Then he says, "Perhaps as much as Wolverine, or perhaps less than Wolverine, not likely more, but I may be wrong." A smirk beneath his mask. "I do things that I am sure you would never approve of Hank, but the Professor is right about one thing especially." There is a slight pause before he speaks again, "I give a shit in my own way." He has shared more with Alex, but isn't ready to share that much just yet with Hank. "There is a bread crumb, one that I can not follow fully. There are...holes," and both of his hands flag into the air, moving. His plastic case rests against his thigh. "Perhaps even I know more than I know that I know." Yes, that was overly complex. But he then laughs, full-heartedly! "Who knows! That's the problem. It goes back to the beginning to what I understand. But I have no proof," and his eyes narrow at that. His words are...confusing, and likely meant to be perhaps, or perhaps he is not as stable as he pretends to be. "One day, perhaps I will find out. But I doubt it will be a joyous one." Beast sighs, "Or me. We're all half loaded loose canons." He says with a shrug. "Don't let your secretiveness be your downfall one day. You're not alone." He rolls his shoulders. "Get a scent. That way your lies can be more interesting. You show signs of being Double chocolate carmal swirl crunch ice cream with peanuts and then pop up as vanilla ice cream. You come off as a blank slate. So your always lying. You need to learn not be so antiseptic, have some more color and flare. It'll make you're stories and lies more colorful." With that Hank hands Jean Phillipe the book he was reading as he slips out the door. The title, Arsene Lupin, Gentleman Thief. To an empty room, Fantomex appears traumatized. "I...I have color and flare!" This is declared of course to an empty room. "I...have lots of color and flare." He never much thought of his lack of scent being a drawback, as his misdirection seemed to more than make up for it. But now? "A Frenchman without color and flare?!" Fantomex picks up his plastic long case and glares at it. "We have lots of color and flare," and stomps out of the empty room with a book he has already ready and has repeatedly said he admires. Grrrr, he is going to out-smell Beast, just you wait!